iGot a Hot Goat
by iSnarkaholic
Summary: What really happened at the  heavy  petting zoo...


iGot a Hot Goat

Synopsis: What_ really _happened at the (heavy) petting zoo...

Pairing: Carly/Goat

Disclaimer: I _meant_ to take the goat to the spay/neuter clinic, but I've been so slammed with work lately that...huh?...what's that, Mr. Schneider?...oh, yeah..._and _I don't own anything.

Rated: "T" (for Tasteless)

Genre: Romance(?) / Drama(!)

Reviews: Don't be shy...

Current Muse: Old McDonald Had a Farm (performed by Ella Fitzgerald)

July 23rd:

Sam Puckett was airborne. Having planned her potential trajectory with military precision, she flew, effortlessly, across the room, and onto the bed, landing directly in front of her best friend ("well..._for_ _now_...but_ only_ until I get up the guts to 'hit' on her"). "Hey, Carls!"

Startled, Carly looked up from the book in her lap. "Hi, Sam."

"Carls...Code Red Emergency! I repeat...Code Red Emergency! Can I borrow some tampons?"

"Uh...no...but you can _have_ some!"

Sam looked relieved. Great...hey, watcha reading?

"Nothing!" Carly replied, hastily stuffing _The Complete Moron's Guide to Coming Out of the Closet_ under her pillow. With a resigned sigh, she got up from the bed, hoisted Sam to her feet, grabbed a fistful of her shirt-front, and led her into the bathroom.

Opening the bottom drawer of the vanity, she pulled out her nearly-full, 200 count box of "Sometimes" Super Plus Tampons (unscented, featuring the patented, _easy-launch Howitzer applicator_), and held them out to Sam.

"Here...take what you nee..."

"Thanks, Cupcake!" Sam said, flinging the entire box into her backpack.

"Hey, leave me some...you're not the only one who needs them right now!"

"What...this isn't _your_ heavy flow day, too, is it, Carls?"

"No. Tomorrow."

"Aw, man, on your birthday? That sucks..."

"Yeah...well...what can you do?"

"Hey, that reminds me of this one time, when I..."

Sam's story was interrupted by Spencer yelling up the stairs. "Kiddo...dinner's ready!"

Carly and Sam wandered down to the kitchen, where the table was set for two, and Spencer was hovering over the stove.

"Hey, Spence, what are you making?" Sam asked.

"Uh..spaghetti tacos...I guess..."

"Yes!" she yelled, flinging herself into the nearest kitchen chair.

"Sam...would you like to join us?" Spencer asked.

"I won't insult you by saying 'no'," she replied, and watched, as he laid another place setting.

Halfway through shoveling down her third taco, Sam paused...something was...not-quite-right. She glanced over at Carly, who had just taken her first bite. "Carls," she said in a low voice, "is it just me, or is something about these...kind of...off?"

"It's not you, Sam, it's Spencer: I think he forgot the meatballs..."

Sam nodded. "...and the cheese..."

"...and the garlic..."

"...and the basil..."

"...and the sauce!" Carly turned to her brother. "Spencer? These are a little...uh...boring..."

He looked down and shuffled his feet. "Um...sorry, kiddo, but...um...our...uh...our grocery money is going to be...a little on the low side...for the rest of the month."

"Didn't Dad wire money into your checking account on the first...like always?"

"Well...yeah..."

"But...?"

"But...I, uh...spent it...all of it." He turned back to the stove.

She nudged Sam and whispered, "Ooh...hear that? He probably spent it all on my birthday surprise! Let's be good sports and eat these."

"But, Carls..."

"Come on. Sam. Afterward we'll stop at the pharmacy for more tampons, and then, on the way back, we'll share a pizza...my treat."

After they had eaten enough of Spencer's meal to spare his feelings, Carly made a fast phone call, while Sam grabbed their jackets from the coat tree near the front door.

"Carly, be back home by ten-thirty." Spencer advised.

"We will...oh, and I just checked with Freddie...he, Sam, and I will be ready to leave by nine tomorrow morning, as requested."

Sam groaned. Carly clapped a hand over her mouth.

As they both walked along the twilit paths of Meridian Park, en route to the pharmacy, Carly turned to Sam and smiled broadly. "I'm so excited about tomorrow! What do you think we're going to do?"

"No idea, Carls, what's your best guess?"

"Well, since Dad sends us a generous allowance every month, _and_ Spencer is broke, I'll bet he has something spectacular planned. We're probably going some place really special, so I'm going to wear my new cashmere sweater!

"You mean the white one?"

"Yes!"

"Oh, God, Carls, you look _so hott_ in that sweater..."

"Really? How hott?"

Absolutely, completely, totally, utterly, impossible to resist!

Carly beamed. "Thanks, Sam...oh, and you can roll your tongue back up! Anyway, I can't wait for tomorrow...I just know I'm going to be _so _surprised!"

July 24th

10:38 am

"Okay, Kiddo, you can take off the blindfold!"

She did. Her jaw dropped.

"Well, I was hoping you'd like it, but I didn't expect you to be completely speechless!"

She turned to him. "A petting zoo?" she yelled, "Are you kidding me?"

"But I thought you loved animals...especially bunnies...which I made sure that they have...I checked the brochure!"

"Wait...let me make sure I've got this right...it's my birthday...and I'm at a_ petting zoo_?"

"Well, yeah."

"Really, Dude...," Sam remarked, shaking her head, "...is this the best you could do?"

Just then, Freddie spoke up, from the backseat, in a weird, constricted voice, "I'll just wait here! In the car! With the windows rolled up!"

Spencer looked hurt. "Carly...I thought you'd understand. Don't you remember...I told you that I'm uh...kind of short of funds...at the moment?"

"Well, yeah...but I thought that was from spending it all on my birthday!"

"Not exactly..."

"Well?"

"Well, what?"

Carly lost it. "You_ know_ what! I deserve an explanation as to why we're here..._and _for why I'm going to be eating nothing but ketchup soup for the rest of the month! Where's all the money you got from Dad?"

"Uh..."

"Spencer?"

"Uh..."

"Spencer!"

"Okay, okay! Remember, six weeks ago, when I took you to dinner at Chez le Feu?"

"Uh...yeah..."

"...and remember how incredibly dark that place was?"

"Uh...yeah..."

"...and how I asked the waiter for another dozen candles...so I could see to read the menu?"

"Uh...yeah..."

"Well, they recently sent me the final bill..."

"Final bill?"

"...and believe me, Missy, rebuilding that dining room wasn't cheap!"

Sam intercepted Carly's hands, just before they reached Spencer's throat, and then, taking Carly by the arm, she pulled her from the Rental Wreck. "Come on, Kid, we might as well make the best of it. This place is in the middle of nowhere, so there's nothing else to do."

"I can't believe this...I have a bad feeling that it's going to be the worst birthday ever!" Carly whined, as Sam, still holding her arm, expertly steered her around a huge pile of horse manure, and over toward the far side of the barnyard.

"Carls, listen...this evening, why don't you and I celebrate...privately...you know..._just the two of us..._by...uh...," she paused, distracted by something she saw in the distance, "...uh...wait for me here...I'll be right back!"

Carly slouched back against the fence and sulked. Why me? she thought. This is so unfair! I wish I had... Just then, a squeaky voice interrupted her thoughts.

"What's next, Mrs. Murphy?"

"Right this way!" a smiling, portly, middle-aged woman announced, shooing about twenty fourth-graders across the barnyard with her Gingham apron. They all stopped nearby, a foot or two away from where Carly was leaning, dejectedly, against the fence. "...and over here is where we keep the goat."

Mrs. Payne, their teacher, turned to Mrs. Murphy and asked, "The goat? Don't you mean _goats_?"

"What?" Mrs. Murphy looked confused.

The teacher rolled her eyes. "They're herd animals...you're supposed to have at least two!"

"Why?"

"Because, one goat can get frustrated, not to mention obnoxious, when placed in an anti-social environment."

Mrs. Murphy shrugged. "Well, we just got the one...we named him Buck." She let him out of his shed, and the students crowded around him.

Mrs. Payne turned back to her class. "So, who remembers some of the goat _Fun Facts, _that we learned last week?"

Several hands shot up.

She smiled. "There's no need to raise your hands outside the classroom...let's just see what you know... so speak up...don't be shy."

"They're extremely affectionate."

"Very good, Jessica."

"Uh...they're naturally curious, and like to investigate their environments with their mouths."

"That's right, Allison."

"They can get very aggressive, if they're bored."

"Excellent, Harry."

"An adult goat buck weighs between 200 and 300 pounds."

"Yes, Alex."

"They're enthusiastic climbers, and can hold their balance in the most precarious places and situations."

"That's correct, Elena."

"During mating season, the buck has a very unpleasant odor. It's because he tries to attract females by urinating on his own face, chest, and front legs, which he then rubs against the female, before copulating."

"Frank," she sighed, "why is it that you always only remember the x-rated details of our class discussions?...but, essentially, you're right."

He smirked. "_Then _what happens, Mrs. Payne?"

"Well, during courting, the buck uses his keen sense of smell to detect whether the female is in heat...if she is, he will mount her, and she acknowledges this by turning her head back to look at the buck. This encouragement inspires him to...uh...to 'perform'...to the best of his ability."

Eager to change the subject, Mrs. Payne turned and gestured toward Carly. "See this young lady's sweater? It's made of cashmere, which is a soft, sensual, fine-textured fiber, from the fine undercoat hairs of the cashmere goat. Now, everyone, lets pay a visit to the bunny hutch..."

As the class wandered away, Carly looked around. Where was Sam? And where was the ladies room? She'd need to use it, soon, she thought, checking her handbag to make sure she had a spare tampon.

Suddenly, she felt something nudge her knee, and she looked down. "Aw, aren't you the cutest little lamb; are you looking for your mommy?" she asked, bending over to stroke its soft, fuzzy back...

(Meanwhile, over by the chicken coop)

She had zeroed in on him at once...the jank overalls were a dead giveaway. "Excuse me, Farmer Murphy?"

Raising his eyebrows, he looked down at Sam. "Yes," he drawled, "what can I do for you, Missy?"

"I was just wondering...how many ribs does a pig have?"

"Well, dependin' on the size and age of the pig, it can have up to 17 pairs of ribs."

Her hand was a blur as she whipped out the calculator. "Seventeen, times two, equals thirty-four, divided by...let's see, Sam, Carly, Spencer, and Freddie...that's four, no, wait, screw that...divided by Sam, Carly, Spencer...that's three...

(Meanwhile, just inside the entrance gate)

"Get these wild animals away from me!"

Spencer removed his left hand from Freddie's left armpit, and stopped dragging him toward the pens, just long enough to give him an affectionate pat on the shoulder. " Aw...Freddie. don't be scared...all the animals here are completely tame, and really friendly."

A cow lazily turned its head, and looked in Freddie's direction.

"How can you think that?" he shrieked.

"Well, just look around you...it's so obvious." Spencer glanced around. "Ah...perfect example... just look at how that goat is hugging Carly!"

"What do you mean?"

Specer pointed over to the far side of the barnyard. "See, way over there...where she's waving her arms?"

"Uh, Spencer..."

"...and calling our names?"

"Uh, Spencer..."

"While the goat is embracing her?"

"Uh, Spencer!"

"From behind?"

"Uh...Spencer!"

"Oh My God!"

12:18 pm

(on the Interstate 90 Expressway)

"Man, I hate rental cars! Spencer mused. "It sounds like the brakes on this thing are about shot...listen to that squealing sound they keep making!"

"Uh, Spencer," Freddie observed, "you're foot's not on the brake pedal..."

12:53 pm

"...and, Farmer Murphy, I'm _so_ sorry...I have no idea how your pig ended up in the trunk of my car, or why those black lines from a permanent Sharpie marker are drawn all over it on it...the ones labeled 'best spots', Spencer apologized, profusely, as Sam sat in the front seat, staring, fascinated, at a water stain above her head.

11:27 pm

(back at the Shay apartment)

Carly sat, naked, in her bathtub, curled into a ball, rocking back and forth, both arms wrapped around her shins. "...I'm fine...I'm fine...I'm fine..."

Sam reached over, from where she was kneeling, next to the tub, and lay a reassuring hand on Carly's shoulder. "Hold still. It's okay, Carls..."

"...I'm fine...I'm fine...I'm fine..."

"...I've almost got the rest of the goat saliva out of your hair..."

"I'm fine...I'm fine...I'm fine..."

"...and you can hardly smell the goat pee on your back anymore..."

"...I'm fine...I'm fine...I'm fine..."

"...and we only had to change the bath water seven times!"

"...I'm fine...I'm fine...I'm fine..."

"And, if it makes you feel any better, all those bruises on your butt are barely noticeable!"

"...NOT FINE...NOT FINE...NOT FINE..."

"...but, Carls...I'm not sure that the cleaners will be able to repair all the teeth marks in your sweater. So, uh, what exactly is cashmere made from, anyway?"


End file.
